What a Cheesy christmas tale
by Nellynee
Summary: A gift for a friend. Christmas celebrations in 4 different Word girl universes, all of which pair Dr Two-brains and Becky aka Word girl. TBxWG get over it. First universe, canon-verse post the rest latter. New chapter posted
1. Canon

If one person doe some whiny stuff about "bu-bu-but, you were supposed to post a new chapter of such and such" I will kick you in your virtual nads. Believe it or not, I'm starting to get my grove back, and it's all this person's fault…

http:// sakora1. deviantart. com/

(As well as some tasteful reviews.)

In any case, just the other night I worked on BA so sush. In other news, Word girl has completely engulfed my life. I turn 18 in less than 3 weeks and people have to fight me for the remote in the pit of doom whenever Word girl comes on. My latest love, Dr. Two-brains. Just one of his episodes will get you hooked. I also have an unnatural love for the interaction between him and Word girl, and pair them adamantly.

And hence, this brain baby was born. A 4 piece series of Christmas oneshots, each taking place in a different universe.

This first one happens in canon.

Merry Christmas http:// sakora1. deviantart. com/ !!!!! (she be drawing me doodles!!!!)

Oneshot # 1: Canon-verse (TB pov)

They could be out stealing cheese right this minute, and his lackeys had the nerve to actually want to CELIBRATE! God forbid he actually was nice enough to pay them on their time off, but to use it at the same time (never mind a holiday) leaving him alone with no muscle to carry out his igneous plans, was just plain rude.

So Dr. Two-brains paced across the warehouse, (He didn't even have a decent home, because who would honestly rent to a villain,) angry, a little hurt, and craving cheese bad enough to make his teeth ache.

He was tempted to try something on his own, but when had _that_ ever worked. At best, Word girl would struggle for a half an hour or so before pounding his butt up between his shoulder blades. At worst, it would be like the last incident where his minions wanted a vacation, when he had tried to take her on, one on one, only to be literally blown back with a flick of her finger to his nose. It hadn't broken anything, but it had sent pain shooting up between his eyes and into his brain, where is had pounded there for three days. His arc of a nose had spasmed to the touch and bled whenever he blew it for a full week while his eyes watered. What was sad about it was that he knew the full extent of Word girl's abilities. And that flick the nose had been bored, but _careful_. She had actually tried not to hurt him.

No, he needed muscle, people to move heavy equipment and hold back opposition while he planed.

Well, if his no good minions wanted to laze about, then at least _he_ could get some work done.

Now he knew that no one should be snooping about his lab, which is why he was all the more surprised when he stomped in, ranting about inconsiderate ingrates, kicking, slamming, and punching whatever he could on the way, only to see the person he expected to see the least, hovering a foot in the air in front of his desk, facing away from him.

"Word girl what are _you_ doing here?"

He didn't bother to hide the annoyance he felt. Didn't feel bad at all when she jumped slightly, clearly startled, (which looked odd a foot in the air), squeezing the package she cradles in her arms slightly. He hadn't been doing anything, anything that she could possibly know about that is. There was no way she could have known that he would sit in here all night, alone and angry, tinkering with some ray or another until it gave a mild electric shock to whatever no good do-gooder or caroler he saw fit the next day. No way that she could have interpret any of his actions into some kind of potential scheme enough to come here and-

But she didn't look confrontational; in fact she looked downright guilty, like she had caught her wrist deep in a cookie jar.

"So… how you been?" He raised a brow as she avoided both his question and his eyes.

"Fine."

"Good, good." She nodded to herself, and they fell into silence.

"How about you and that little monkey sidekick of yours." He was the only one who knew the monkey's name, let alone species. And he hadn't wanted to be rude…

"Fine…."

"Oh well, good" Again, silence.

"So, um, where are-?"

"Dumb and Dumber? They went home for the holidays like every other paid minion. And the monkey?"

"Oh, um, he had a liiiiiiiiiittle to much eggnog and fell asleep."

"Oh." He winced. Inebriated monkey. He would NOT want to have to clean up that mess in the morning. But where did 10 year old get eggnog?….

"Um, so, yeah, it's Christmas, you know, Santa and reindeer and candy canes and trees and all that, and your supposed to get gift and give them to people you care about, cause I know they say it's not what it's all about, " She was nervous, he realized, because Word girl only ranted like this when nervous. "But it always feels good, I mean really good to get presents, and well I saw this and thought of you so here."

This final bit was punctuated by the brightly colored package she had been cradling carefully in her arms to be shoved into his face. He took it without a second thought.

"Yes well, you're such a goody goody that you probably gave something to every villain you ever met, right?" He gave her a little wink. They were both flustered, so he'd only said it to try and diffuse some of the nervousness, but she visibly tensed and looked away from him again.

"Um, yeah, sure." He knew instantly that not only did she not give something to every villain, but he was the _only_ villain to get something from her.

That just made him more rattled.

He looked at the present to avoid looking at her. It wasn't very big. It was a perfect square that took up most of his hand, only about an inch thick that sat heavy in his hand. It was wrapped in forest green paper that was spotted with cheery trees and long lines of red tinsel. A bright red bow sat on top, with a festively shaped tag attached that read _To: TB Love: WG._

"Thank you Word girl." The words were out of his mouth before he realized, an old polite habit from his younger days. He wanted to smile when he saw he visibly redden, but he seemed to be just as bewildered as she was by the words.

"Well, you welcome. Just don't open it till tomorrow, okay." And with that, she was gone, zooming out fast enough that the residual wind tore at his hair and coat.

Of course the first thing he did was find a comfy spot on his couch, muting whatever annoying special was on, and open it. He was a villain after all; he could open his present whenever he wished.

Cheese. She had gotten him cheese. And he was thrilled.

Remembering his hunger, he tore off to the vault, downing a whole wheel of cheddar, something sharp and hard and satisfying that would tide him over. He wanted to say it was curiosity that made him go for something else, rather than gorge on the small block sitting in the paper on the couch, but maybe it was something more sentimental.

In any case, he sat back down, satisfied, a cup of new coffee in his hands, and hefted the thin block into his lap.

He looked over the white cheese, the brown sugary crust, read the label and instantly laughed.

Juustoleipa, she had gotten him Juustoleipa. How appropriate. He peeled back the layers of plastic until he cracked the vacuumed seal and gave a great sniff. Sweat and milky, it made his mouth water all over again, and instantly he tore off a corner of the reindeer cheese and popped it in his mouth without a second thought. Even cooled it was amazing. The outside caramelized crust crunched just slightly between his teeth like sugar and danced sweetly on his tongue. The inner layer crumbled like bread between his teeth before melting slightly into something reminiscent of custard. The whole thing gave off this milky, buttery flavor that stuck to his tongue even after he had swallowed.

This was special cheese though, and one simply had to eat it properly. The first thing he did was heat it. The microwave would do, only a few seconds before it glistened and steamed. He portioned each bit carefully, one strip to dunk in his coffee, another to smother in jam, another in honey, another for this or that. By the time he was finished, he had the ten ounce block portioned into somewhere between 5 to ten different means of eating, warm and only slightly giving between his teeth and almost unbearably sweet for cheese.

A kind of peace came over him as he sat on the old worn couch, half listening to Christmas specials he remembered watching when he was a child, wrapped in a robe and blanket with slippers on his feat, sipping coffee and devouring each slice with careful deliberate bites, savoring each bit.

Finally, he was down to the last bite, this one slathered in warm honey. Chewing on it, he was touched, to think that someone had been so thoughtful.

Sucking the buttery sugar from his teeth, he wondered what one got an over intelligent super powered ten year old.

* * *

I've been kicked off the computer.

Parts 2-4 will be up soon.


	2. Nurse

Part 2 of my TBxWG Christmas fics. Because I don't believe that Christmas fics only belong during Christmas time.

IMPORTANT!!!!!!! BEFORE YOU READ!!!!!!!

This one takes place in a universe discovered by

http:// sakora1. deviantart. com/

And explored heavily and excitedly by me, which I lovingly call the Nurse!Becky-verse

If you guys like, I will explore this universe in a better depth with background (heck I'll probably do that anyways)

But there is a little bit of back-story you need to know. Basically, this takes place in a universe in which Becky was placed in Dr. Boxleitner's care, as apposed to the Botsfords. When Steven took his fall into evil, Becky fallowed after, taking on the persona "Nurse". With the pintsized powerhouse at his side, Two-brain's has now become an unstoppable force in the criminal world. His only weakness, it seems, it a certain ten year old girl, whom the public seems to think he is unnaturally close to.

Oneshot # 2: Nurse!Becky-verse (see above)

Shopping was not one of Dr. Two-Brains' favorite activities. It wasn't particularly unpleasant, but there wasn't anything really that exciting, simply a tedious necessity. People in general tended to ignore him, if not for his reputation then for his odd appearance. Then there was the fact that the good people of Fair City didn't seem to know the meaning of "preemptive strike" or "several outstanding warrants", so the idea to call the police never really entered their mind unless he went out of his way to make a commotion. Shopping was a quiet venture, go in, get out, and ignore the dark looks and whispers from the other shoppers while mourning the loss of valuable plotting time.

He'd only wished they'd stop whispering.

"Poor thing, she's only ten…"

"Grown man living with a small child…."

"She's far too familiar with him…."

"Maybe he's brainwashed her…."

Brainwashing BAH! That was Mr. Big's thing. They had said worse about him though. Horrible perverted things that even he was ashamed to be associated with. They hadn't said a word when sweet, innocent Dr. couldn't-hurt-a-fly-Boxleitner was caring for the girl, but as soon as Two-Brains comes along tongues started to wag. They weren't even decent enough to shut up around the poor girl.

The first time, Becky had stood silent next to him in the line, in civilian clothing, waiting until they both sat in the oppressive silence of the van before bursting into sobs. The second time she had reacted with anger, overly complicated insults flying from her fiery little mouth as she used her overdeveloped vocabulary to make everyone in the store shut up and look uncomfortable. The whispers had stopped for a while, but like monkeys the public had forgotten their shame and had started again without hesitation.

After that, while still angry, Becky had decided to try and ignore them purposely, tried to prove that it didn't matter what they said by going on as before. Holding his hand as they walked, a hug or even kiss on the cheek when she got overexcited, little gestures she had done for years that had never gotten so much as a glance with Boxleitner, not realizing that her actions were only fuel for the fire.

Two-brains couldn't care less, could swallow their words with no more than a shrug, but Becky was an impressionable young girl who shouldn't be talked about that way.

So for today's trip, she stayed at home, while he went and took the whispers and looks from the unnatural amount of people in the busy, cheerfully decked store. Today was the day before Christmas, and the tiny aisles we're packed with last minute shoppers and back stockers for when the holidays closed all doors. Unlike most of his fellow shoppers, he had gotten everything in advanced, and had only needed a few essential groceries. Within a half-an-hour, he was out and in his van.

They lived in an indiscriminate house on an indiscriminate street on the outer part of town. The house had legally been his for years, bought on some leftover grant money when he'd finished some big money project in under half the budget (the money had been legally his after all) so he never had to worry about some prejudice landlord throwing him on his butt in the middle of the night. Unlike the rest of the houses, which were brightly decorated with cheery colors and blinding lights, their house was bare, a not so subtle rejection of the "togetherness" vibe the others on the street had attempted.

Inside was an entirely different story. In the 30 minute span he had been gone, the super fast, super strong, flying child had gotten the decorations down from the attic, dusted them, strung garlands and lights and scented wreaths from the ceiling and walls and the banister that led upstairs. The tree, a fragrant pine they had gotten only days ago, was up and strung with the lights she had painstakingly untangled and checked for dead bulbs, and wrapped with garland and tinsel.

The best, she had saved for him. She sat on the couch, already changed into the heavy flannel nightdress for their cozy night off, arms wrapped around her legs and jumping silently in anticipation. She smiled and laughed when she saw him, and was wrapped around his waist before he even had his coat off.

"Isn't it pretty Doctor?"

He made a show of looking about with a critical eye, shrugging his coat with one arm while the other hand cupped his chin thoughtfully.

"Absolutely exquisite my dear, but I do believe it's missing something." He gestured towards the ornament bare tree, and she nodded enthusiastically in agreement. She grabbed the bag to put away while he made his way to the living room, where the tree was. Pulling free the bright violet bow tie and rolling up his sleeves above his gloves, he heard the distinctive whoosh of Becky's supersonic speed and wasn't surprised to see her waiting at the kitchen door, jumping in place, a plate of the cheese cookies he'd made in one arm as she nibbled absently on the salty treat.

Decorating the tree seemed to be her favorite ritual, and every year since realizing this he had tired to make a big deal out of it, drawing it out into an entire evening in hopes of making her happy. But more and more, she had, in her excitement, been taking over the chore of setting up the evening from right under his nose.

The sun had already set, so they worked only by the lights strung about the house. They started with the tiny fragile glass figures and bulbs that had passed down to him from his grandmother. There weren't too many left from the years of use, but it was always the longest stage in decoration. Each ornament held a special significance, a story from his family or childhood. The would sit on the old, hideously plaid but undeniably comfortable couch, she snuggled into his side as he pulled out some trinket or another, and though she'd heard them a million times before she'd beg and moan until he retold every one of them.

The next box they pulled out was larger and newer. In it were delicate works of art he'd made over the years in a burst of artistic inspiration that no amount of preplanned machinery could subdue. Brilliantly twisted wires that took on the shapes of stars and flowers, crystals cut strategically into starbursts and curves that would throw the glowing light across the room in brilliant rainbows, orbs of preblown glass that he had painted and set with mirrors to make infinite expanses of stars or valleys of flowers. Each was unique and brilliant in design, and they spent several minutes oohing and ahhing over each, choosing just the right place to set off the lighting.

They ended with the cookies. Tiny little men he had baked over the week, painstakingly piercing their forehead with a thick needle that was threaded with ribbon after some exciting evenings filled with decorative candies and icing, a mistake he could never avoid every year as a sugared up super powered child was all the more difficult to control. They nibbled and giggled as they filled up empty spots, and by the time they were done, they still had a plate filled with spiced cookie men to nibble on with the hot drinks they had inevitably gotten.

Munching on his own treat, choosing one of the salty cheddar biscuits and leaving the cookies to the girl, he shook what was left of the boxes, just in case, and was actually surprised to hear the muffled shuffle of a forgotten decoration.

He paused as he pulled out the one particular figure, plopping down in his seat as he contemplated the doll in his hand. A tiny pink angel, long blond hair and flowing robes flung out in an invisible wind as it sang its tiny heart out to the world.

"Do you miss her?"

He started slightly. He'd told Becky the story only once, of his little sister that had lived only a year, just long enough for his family to fall completely in love with her, before she'd gotten sick and died in the hospital from some complication the doctors hadn't found until it was to late. His grandfather had carved the tiny guardian angel as a memorial to her, and they had hung it on the family tree every Christmas until his grandmother died and he'd taken the family ornaments with him.

"Yes. I hadn't known her very long, but I loved her fiercely." He handed her the delicate figure to hang, but she only snuggled under his arm all the closer and fingered the delicate angel thoughtfully.

"Do you love me too?" She'd asked the question many times over the years, and he was sure it was from her years in the foster system, coupled with the cold treatment she had gotten from her caretakers in the government facility they had kept her in before he'd taken custody. So he hugged her hard and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Of course I do honey, you're my world." This made her smile, and she finally drifted up toward the top of the tree, draping the angel's ribbon on the for most branch right under where the star would go. It was an old star, simple and carved of wood with faded yellow paint, another of his grandfather's creations, but it was the star he'd grown up with.

He remembered her first year in his home, back when Steven had been in control. They had spent the day decorating together, and he had offered to let her put up the star. She'd nodded hesitantly, and he'd stood off to the side, fully expecting her to simply float her way up. But she had stood there, staring at him as children we're prone to do, twiddling one of the ponytails at the base of her neck, and asked if he was going to pick her up. He wondered where she had gotten the idea, but rather than question it, he had picked her up with little effort and settled her across his shoulders while she adjusted the star on top to her own idea of childish perfection.

Every year since they had done the same and this was no different. She wriggled in place and pulled at her skirt, but finally she was settled enough to do their final Christmas Eve ritual. She climbed down when finished, and he rubbed his aching neck (she really was too heavy, but he'd continue to pick her up as long as she asked.) They both settled on the couch before the tree, sipping cocoa and nibbling baked treats and admiring their work like every year, when finally she fell into an overexcited sleep. Like every year, he would carry her upstairs and settle her in bed. Laying there, so innocent, he couldn't help but love the little girl that had come unexpectedly into his life nearly 5 years ago, even if he didn't love her like he should.

Brushing back her bangs from her face, he leaned in and whispered his love for the sleeping girl before placing a soft kiss on her forehead, and leaving her to her sleep as he left to arrange the presents under the tree, even if she didn't believe in Santa anymore.


End file.
